Pinky Promise
by Waiting-for-a-mad-man-in-221b
Summary: Blaine was shaking, staring at the money. Was he really doing this? This wasn't him. It couldn't be. Someone must have taken over control of his brain. As much as they needed this... He just couldn't go through with it.
1. Chapter 1

Kurt sighed and grabbed the latest edition of Vogue from under the counter. Pizza-Italia was dead, but that was nothing new, it was always dead at 3pm. He took a seat. You weren't supposed sit down on the job but it was only Kurt out front, and he didn't think that the cooks would rat him out. They never did.

He flipped through the first few pages of advertisements, before finding what he was really interested in, the gossip. _Kate Middleton wore what?_

The bell above the door chimed, startling him from his reading. "Welcome to Pizza-Italia." He said monotone, slipping his magazine back under the counter. " What can I-" he gasped as he took in the man wearing a black ski mask, and black hoodie. "I-I" _Oh god, oh god, he's a robber, what do I do?_

"E-empty the register!" The man suddenly sputtered out.

Kurt wanted to react. _This guy could have a gun, jesus Kurt do something!_ But his demands did nothing to break him from his frozen state.

"I-I said-"

Kurt finally broke free of his fear and started working to open the register, all on pure adrenaline. He grabbed a to go bag and began stuffing money in it. He emptied the register, even the change. "H-here." He flung the bag out towards the guy.

Blaine was shaking, staring at the money. Was he really doing this? This wasn't him. It couldn't be. Someone must have taken over control of his brain. As much as he needed this... He just couldn't go through with it.

This cashier wasn't helping either. He looked absolutely terrified, his face was pale, and he was breathing heavily, like he was just waiting for Blaine to pull out a gun, or knife or something. No, no, no. He couldn't let this go for much longer.

Blaine groaned as he pulled the ski mask down, revealing his face, not even thinking about the fact that this guy could totally call the cops on him if he wanted to. He slumped into a chair, letting the tears he'd been holding in at home take over him.

"Shit!" He said brokenly, he was sobbing and heaving huge breaths, he felt like he was going to suffocate. This was his shot, his only shot, and he'd blown it. There would be no dinner tonight, but he wasn't worried about his empty stomach, he was worried about Declan's.

He had to explain to him that they had to go another night with out dinner. No one wants to tell their child that, especially their three year old. "God dammit!" It was meant to be a scream, a shout of failure, a release of… something, but it came out as nothing more than a broken sigh. He couldn't do this. He couldn't do this alone; he couldn't do this without her.

Kurt looked on frozen in utter confusion. Was it safe to assume this guy wasn't going to rob them anymore, or…

He watched silently as the man sobbed in the middle of the empty pizzeria. He almost wanted to get the guys out back. Maybe they could help him figure out what to do? But he didn't want to risk them calling the cops; this guy obviously had a change of heart, which makes Kurt think he really didn't want to do this in the first place.

"Are you o-okay?" He ventured once the man's sobbing had quieted to the occasional sniffle. The man's head jerked up, and Kurt saw his eyes for the first time. They were a beautiful hazel, but that wasn't why he'd noticed them. There was a look of utter defeat, and also fear, in them. Kurt's heart broke a little then. This guy wasn't a robber; he was just a guy no older than him, who was going through some really shitty times.

The guys shook his head in disbelief. _I almost robbed this guy, probably scared him half to death, and he's asking me if _I'm _ok? _

"I… no." He shook his head, his lose curls bouncing around him, making him feel like a little kid again; he rarely wore his hair like this, but he ran out of gel a few days ago. He looks back down at the table; he's too embarrassed to look at the stranger.

It's crazy to think that just seven months ago he was living comfortably, three tubs of gel in the bathroom cabinet, food every day, cable, cell phone…

Now? Nothing. He had nothing. Barely enough clothes to keep himself and Declan warm for the winter in their shitty apartment with no heat. But what else was to be expected from a place he rented for seventy five dollars a month?

"I can't take care of him by myself. I-I don't… I can't. I don't have any money, and I can't get a fucking job because I have to w-watch him, and I just can't do this anymore."

Kurt just wants to give this guy a hug, and tell him everything is going to be alright, but that'd be unfair because Kurt honestly doesn't know if it will be. He doesn't really know what this guy is talking about, but he just wants to help because he can't stand how _broken _he looks.

"What can I do?" He finds himself asking.

The man lifts his head again. Kurt's happy to find a small glint of hope replacing some of the defeat in his eyes.

"I…Um… just listen maybe?" Kurt nods his head fervently.

"Of course, yes, just um…" He slips off his apron, and makes his way around the counter and takes the seat across from the other man. The guy exhales a heavy breath; Kurt extends his hand carefully, as to not frighten him. He takes it; Kurt squeezes it reassuringly then lets go. "My name's Kurt," he offers.

"Blaine." The guy's eyes dart to the lone car in the parking lot. He looks like he's about to puke when he stands up, he runs a hand through his wild curls and sighs again. "How long have I been in here?" He asks almost panicked.

"Only a few minutes." Kurt assures. Blaine looks relieved, only slightly though.

"I swear I'll be back, I just- my son's in the car. I don't want to leave him in there any longer." Kurt nods silently. His eyes follow Blaine as he runs out the door to his car. He watches as Blaine plucks the sleeping child from his car seat and cradles him to his chest, pressing a soft kiss to his brown curls.

Blaine comes back in as promised. He sets the sleeping boy down on a booth bench; he removes his coat, laying it over the toddler like a blanket.

He walks back over to the table awkwardly; he drags the chair out quickly making it scratch across the floor. He winces, and looks back at the toddler who is still sleeping peacefully. He sits, and begins to fidget. _Why didn't I just leave? This is horrifying, and god this guy could call the police any second. _"I'm really sorry about this." He says with a breathy laugh. _This is what your life has come to Blaine Anderson; apologizing to a cashier you tried to rob, just so you could feed your kid, when you're only just a kid yourself. _"I swear to you I didn't have any other choice, and now- god I hope he doesn't wake up here. He'll think he's getting pizza. Fuck!" Blaine's head drops into his hands as a fresh wave of tears threaten him, making his voice rough, and his throat feel like it's about to close up on him. He's suffocating. He doesn't know how much longer he can gasp for air, with no relief, until he just gives up.

"I just don't know what to do." He admits, he says it so quietly Kurt can barely make it out. Kurt realizes he doesn't know what to do either. Blaine wants to talk but it's obvious he needs so much more than that. Kurt realized at some point how skinny Blaine was, and now it's all he can think about. And he looks barely twenty, and the boy must be at least three…

"What's his name?" Blaine lowers his hands; he smiles over at the boy.

"Declan."

"He's beautiful," Kurt says softly. He sees Blaine soften too.

"Yeah, he's pretty cute, people say he looks like his dad." Kurt laughs out loud, a little too loudly. He quickly clasps his hand over his mouth; he's relieved to find Declan's still asleep.

"And his mom?"

"Drunken high school hook-up. She stuck around for the first two and a half years before she split. She was angry when I told her I couldn't marry her, and she just took off, left us. I was staying with her at her parents place. They kicked me out after she left, they were mad at me for 'pushing her away.' I've been struggling ever since to just stay on my feet."

Kurt felt the tears pooling in his eyes as he looked upon Blaine spilling his heart out, he himself threatening to fall apart, again.

"It's hard enough having a kid at 17, then to not have any support, it just makes it a hundred times worse. Before I could leave him with his grandparents when I needed to go to work. Now I have to pay someone to watch him. It cost more an hour for someone to watch him, than I get paid. Most of the time I just take him to the park. He gets to play, I get to play my guitar and sing, maybe get ten bucks. Enough for the dollar menu for a day or two."

Silence settles over the empty restaurant.

"I'm sorry," Kurt says, "I just don't really know what to say." But Blaine just smiles sadly at him.

"Really you just sitting here and listening is more than enough. Also the fact that you didn't call the cops… Just, thank you."

Kurt shrugs, "you didn't take anything so no harm, no foul, right? Um… If I go out back for a second do you swear you won't run?"

"Oh god, I spoke too soon about the whole not calling the cops thing didn't I?" Kurt laughs lightly, he finds Blaine's on top of the table, he covers it with his, as he says, "of course not I just have to talk to one of the guys out back. I swear I won't even touch the phone." He removes his hand from Blaine's; he holds it out in front of Blaine, "pinky promise." Blaine lets out the most genuine laugh Kurt has ever heard, because really? What is this, third grade?

Blaine finds himself joining his pinky with the other man's anyway. "Pinky promise."

* * *

"Daddy?" Declan's sleep filled call startles Blaine. He moves to his son quickly, scooping him into his arms, he braces him on his hip.

"What is it buddy?"

"Where are we?" Blaine curses himself for staying here too long. Kurt's been in the back for about ten minutes, Blaine's starting to wonder it he's ever coming back, and now he's got to tell Declan, who hasn't eaten since last night, that he can't have any of the delicious greasy Italian food that he's smelling.

"Daddy's just visiting a friend, but we got to go now, ok?" Declan looks disappointed, but he doesn't say anything, he just rests his head on Blaine's shoulder.

"Ok daddy," he sighs into Blaine's ear. Blaine's heart breaks but there's nothing he can do about it, so he begins to tug his coat on (not an easy feat with a three year old clinging to your shoulder.) "Daddy?" Declan starts just as Blaine's pulling the door open.

"Yeah buddy?"

"I'm… I-" Blaine pulls his son away from his shoulder so he can look into his beautiful, innocent, baby blue eyes.

"You know you can tell me anything right, Declan?" Declan shakes his head but avoids Blaine's eyes.

"It's just, I'm really hungry. But I know how sad you get when I say that sometimes, and I don't want to make you cry, daddy." Blaine can hardly control the tsunami of silent tears that escape him, and all he wants is to stop crying because his son just fucking told him he didn't want to make him cry, but how could not… a three year old should not have to worry about going hungry, or making his father cry, or anything. A three year old should only worry about what toy they were going to play with next.

"I'll get you some dinner. Don't worry bud, I'll work all this out. Don't you worry about anything." Blaine's just reached the car when he hears someone calling out to him. It's Kurt.

"Blaine where are you going?" Kurt calls as he runs over to them.

"Is this your friend, daddy?"

"Uh- yeah, buddy. Kurt what are you-" Kurt just smiles and put his pointer finger to his lip, then he turns to the boy who has become shy all of a sudden.

"You must be Declan." Kurt says. The boy just nods. "Oh good, cause I've got a pizza that says it's for a Declan, so it must be for you then!" The boy's eyes go wide as saucers; he looks at Blaine in amazement. In turn Blaine looks at Kurt in shock.

"Kurt," he whispers, his voice absolutely wrecked from emotion.

"You got us pizza, daddy?" Declan asks as he bounces in Blaine's arms, not even trying to control his excitement. Blaine wants nothing less than to say no to him, but he can't pay for this…

"Kurt I can't-"

"Oh please, it's on the house." Kurt waves it away as if he's being ridiculous. Paying? Who ever heard of paying?

And if it was just Blaine he would have never taken Kurt's handout, but he's got a hungry three year old who is absolutely giddy with the promise of pizza, and he wouldn't turn down Kurt's pity even if he could.

"Thank you," he mouths. Again, Kurt waves it away.

Kurt grabs a booster seat for Declan, and then brings out their pizza. It's just cheese but Blaine doesn't think he's even seen something so delicious looking in his life. He cuts up Declan's into little bite sized pieces before chowing down himself. Kurt brings him out a soda, and a juice for Declan. They suck them down in seconds. Kurt just laughs and gets them refills.

After his third piece Declan slumps back against the booster seat. "I'm stuffed," he says. Blaine's not even sure where he learned that from because he's sure that in the past seven months neither one of them would have been able to say that.

"Me too," Blaine smiles down at his full child. He looks so happy. He hasn't looked this happy in weeks. "Can you say thank you to Kurt please?"

"Thank you for the pizza, Kurt!" Declan leans over in his chair to wrap his little arms around Kurt's middle. Kurt laughs; lifting him out of his seat he hugs the boy closer before setting him down. Declan goes running to his father who takes a napkin and begins wiping the grease from the boy's face.

"Anytime." Kurt assures. He makes sure to meet Blaine's gaze so he knows he really means _anytime. _Blaine nods, his eyes teary again, but he sniffles and forces them down. At least this time they're happy tears.

"Ok buddy what do you say we let Kurt get back to work, huh?"

"Ok," the boy sighs, " but do you think we could come see Kurt again soon? I like him, he's really nice." Blaine laughs at his son.

"You just want some more pizza." Declan looks shocked, _how dare you accuse me of such a thing! _

"But that's not the only reason! I promise!" That earns another giggle from Blaine, and even one from Kurt.

"You can come see me anytime you want, Declan. Well anytime, Monday-Thursday, 12pm to 6pm. Well um- here," Kurt grabbed a napkin and the pen that he always kept handy incase he has to write a specialty order down. "Here's my number, call me if you need anything." Blaine stared at the ten digits incredulously. He came here to rob this place and he was leaving with the number of a guy who might have just saved his and his son's life. Not even that the pizza saved them from starving, no, Blaine could have found food somewhere, Kurt had given him hope, and that was something not very many people could do. And he hadn't even said anything special; he hadn't given him that "it'll all work out" crap. He just listened, he let Blaine tell his story, and he didn't call the cops on him. He let Declan be a careless three year old again, sucking down apple juice and scarfing down pizza, giggling the whole time. Blaine had three dollars in his pocket. He could go busk for an hour, maybe make five more dollars. The leftovers would hold them over for another lunch, and he would go busking early tomorrow and stay out late, as long as it wasn't too cold. He could get them ahead. He could do this.

Kurt had helped him in more ways than he could possibly know, because to Kurt he'd only given them a free pizza. He'd only filled up their empty bellies for one night. But to Blaine he'd filled him with so much hope that he was sure he would never go hungry again.

"Thank you so much."

"Blaine, really, I'm just glad to see you smile. I'm just glad to see him smile." He pointed to Declan who was twirling around in the middle of the restaurant, sugar high from the three cups of apple juice he sucked down. "And you know, you don't have to wait till you're starving to call me. If you need anything, a babysitter, someone to talk to, I'm all ears, and I'm not too bad with kids. And if busking isn't getting you enough I'm sure I could ask my dad for a favor, and I'm sure he wouldn't mind looking after Declan in his office, he can't do any of the heavy lifting since his heart attack, so he's stuck in there all day, I'm sure he wouldn't mind the company. He owns Hummel tire and lube, down on Park. You know it?"

"Uh- I think so, yeah."

"Know anything about cars?"

"I- yeah I used to fix up old cars with my dad. It was all part of his master plan to turn me straight. It didn't work." Kurt feels the heat rise up in his cheeks. He smiles shyly says, "good to know. Anyway," he adds quickly, "Promise you'll call if you need anything?"

"Pinky promise," he extends his pinky out and Kurt hooks onto it with his own.

"Pinky promise." They smile at each other. Kurt looks into Blaine's eyes and for the first time he sees no defeat or fear, he just sees joy, and hope, and Kurt didn't know he needed to see that until right then. "I'll talk to my dad as soon as I'm out of here, and I'll let you know what he says when you call, alright?"

"Honestly Kurt this is just too-"

Kurt groans, "Ugh please don't, this is not too much. This is called being nice. Now shoo, go bring that boy to the park so he can run some of his crazies out, and you can get some change to call me with later."

"I will I-"

"Pinky promise, I know."


	2. Chapter 2

**You guys wanted a multi-chapter and so here goes nothing! And don't worry, not all of the chapters will be this boring, this is just a bunch of set-up! (Also not all of the chapters will be updated this quickly, I had the day off today with nothing to do, which is the only reason this one is up so quickly!) So thank you for reading and ****reviewing, and I would love it if you would continue to do so!**

* * *

Blaine pulls over the car as soon as he sees the smoke spilling out from under the hood. He puts the crappy old Honda into park, turns it off, and dashes out to grab Declan from his car seat. He grabs the blankets he keeps in the back and wraps it around the three year old before he scoops him up and carries him across the deserted strip of freeway. He needs to find phone. He knows there's a gas station not too far down from exit 5, hopefully they'll let him use theirs.

"Daddy wassah matter with your car?"

"I don't know," he answers curtly. Blaine catches his son's frown out of the corner of his eye. He makes it a point not to get too angry around him. He already has to go through so much; it's not fair that he has to deal with Blaine's emotions too. "I'm sorry buddy, daddy's just trying to think, ok?"

"Ok. … Are you mad at me daddy?"

"No! Of course I'm not mad at you buddy. When am I ever mad at my boy?" He gives a light tickle to his son's side, earning a squeal from him.

"Never," he says through a laugh.

"That's right. You know why I'm never mad at you?"

Declan puts a finger on his chin, and taps it like he's thinking really hard. "I don't know," he finally answers, "why?"

"Because you are the best kid in the whole wide world!" Blaine exclaims, and Declan smiles, and starts laughing again. Blaine can't help the small smile that tugs at his lips; he is so lucky.

"You know why I'm never mad at you?" Blaine mimics his son's earlier actions, scratching at his chin, he notices how much scruff is there, he should really shave before he goes into see Kurt's dad,_ if _he goes and sees Kurt's dad.

"I don't know, why?"

"Cause you're the best dad in the whole wide world!" Blaine holds him just a little closer to his chest. Declan wraps his arms around his father's neck, "I love you, daddy."

"Love you too buddy."

* * *

Declan decides he wants to walk to the gas station, if only to make a big deal out of it after, but Blaine sets him down anyway, he keeps hold of his hand though. He watches him in amusement for a minute as he tries to peek behind Blaine's legs, which block him from the freeway, each time a car passes. He gives up after a while and continues walking quietly.

Blaine doesn't have time to enjoy the silence (which he could really use at a much less stressful time), instead his brain is filing through the names of the people he used to be able to call when shit like this happened. His mom, his dad (if he was really desperate), Wes, Dave, Trent, well any of the Warbler's really. All that's changed now. He hasn't talked to those guys in years. Not since he graduated Dalton early without any warning.

They had all called him, Facebooked him, they tried to get in touch with him so many times, but he didn't see a way that he could have kept that life while trying to start his new one as a fucking teenage father. He wouldn't be able to hang out with them like he used to, wouldn't be able to be in the Warblers anymore, never mind stay the lead. Eventually he would get too busy and lose touch with them anyway, at least this way it would only hurt for a while. The pain would be much less drawn out by him cutting himself off from the group immediately, instead of over time.

He hated having to do it, he missed them so much, but Declan was his priority, and at the beginning he had been doing everything he could to be able to support the three of them. He'd had three jobs at one point, not even that they needed that much money while they were living with her parents, he just wanted to get the savings started. He had always been one to think ahead, and thank god he did or he would have never survived those first few months after she had left.

Fortunately his train of what was sure to be very not nice thoughts is cut off there with Declan shouting, "look daddy! The gas station, look I found it!"

"Great job little man!"

"Hey man, could I use your phone? My car broke down up on the freeway." Blaine asks approaching the older guy at the counter. He must be in his fifties, but somehow he has an air about him that makes him seem much older. It's not the good kind of older either, it's not the sweet old guy older, it's the grumpy old guy older.

"Sorry," he says unconvincingly, "customers aren't allowed to use it." Blaine feels the anger building up inside of him; he forces it down as much as he can before he speaks again.

"Please sir, is there anyway you could make an exception? Please I've got my son with me, he's only three…please?"

The guy shrugs, "sorry."

Blaine releases a huge sigh. _Don't get angry Blaine, don't get angry in front of him, and don't scare him. _"Is there a payphone around here?"

Mr. grumpy points to the parking lot across the street, sighing like it's so much effort for him to do so. Blaine mentally flips him off before getting the hell out of there before he explodes at the guy.

* * *

Kurt feels his cheeks turning pink as he realizes whom the "unknown caller" must be. "Isn't there some sort of three day rule?" He quips upon answering. He's expecting a laugh to carry over from the other line but he is greeted with a sigh instead. "Hey what's the matter?"

"My car broke down, thank god Lima still has a lot of payphones."

"Ah yes, the one time this town's refusal to progress into the modern world comes in handy."

"Kurt, I hate to ask-"

"God Blaine _don't. _I'll have my dad send over one of his guys. And hey you can meet him, and talk to him about a job."

"Jesus, Kurt, you're just- you're amazing. I swear as soon as I save up some money, I'm buying you a thank you pizza."

Kurt groans at that, "please, anything but pizza. But honestly don't worry about it. I'm going to hang up and call my dad now, ok? Where is your car?"

"About a mile south of exit 4. Thank you again, Kurt. Talk to you soon?"

"That's a promise."

xXx

"You must be Blaine!"

"Yes, Hi I'm Blaine, and this is Declan. And you are?"

"Oh Kurt didn't tell who was coming? I'm Finn, his brother. Well step brother, but anyway," Finn steps in closer, he offers his hand. Blaine shakes, once he lets go Declan reaches up to shake the man's hand too. Finn and Blaine share a smile. Finn kneels down, but even on his knees he's a whole foot and a half taller than the boy. "Have you ever ridden in a big truck?" He asks him.

Declan shakes his head.

"Would you like to?"

He nods excitedly.

"Come on let's get you out of the cold, little guy. The truck's nice and warm, you guys go wait in there while I hitch up your car."

"Thanks for doing this, I felt bad asking but I didn't have any other way of getting home. I would walk but I can't carry him the whole way and he'd get tired. Plus it's too cold for him out here."

"Don't sweat it man," Finn says as he starts to hook up Blaine's car to the back of the truck. "It's no big deal, me and Kurt give all our friends free lifts, and tune ups, if they need it. Go ahead, go make yourselves comfy."

"Can I sit in the front Daddy?"

"Only this once."

"Yay!" He says running towards the truck, the blanket that Blaine had fastened around his shoulders fluttered out like a cape. It reminds him of when he was little and used to take his bed sheet and pretend he was Superman. Blaine wishes that Declan could play like that, he wishes that he could put him in preschool, so he could make some friends and play all day. In preschool he wouldn't have to worry about when he would get his next meal, or snack if he was hungry, he could just play and escape to the far away places that every kid has tucked somewhere in their imaginations, he could be the three year old he's supposed to be, but it's just not an option. There's no money for that, and so he drags him around town all day to all of the different park, and sure sometimes he meets other kids there but he never sees them again. Most of the time he doesn't even play. Most of the time he just sits by Blaine and listens to him sing. He never forgets to applaud, and tell his father how pretty he sang when he does.

"Daddy help it's too high!" He's jumping to try to reach the hand of the truck, grunting with every attempt. Instead of just opening the door for him Blaine lifts him so he can reach, so he can open it himself. Ever since he's become a father he's been doing little things like that. Before if a kid asked him to get something high up (ok not too high up, he's only 5' 8") he would have just gotten it. But it's so much better to see the satisfaction on Declan's face when he does something for himself, and every opportunity to get a smile out of his little boy he takes.

Blaine shuts the door after he climbs into the truck, instantly relaxing into the warmth of it. God, does he miss heat. Finn climbs in only a few minutes after that, and they start towards Hummel Tire and Lube.

* * *

Finn drops off Blaine's car in the back of shop, while he and Declan sit in the waiting room. Thankfully there is a TV in there, Blaine finds the remote on the little table and turns it to Disney since they are the only ones in there. Blaine can't remember the last time Declan watched TV, and he wishes he had a camera when he sees the way his face lights up when he sees Mickey Mouse Club House come on.

Blaine turns toward the door, that must lead to the office, as it opens. A bald man appears from behind it, and Blaine stiffens. Kurt's dad.

Ok so Blaine doesn't have the best experience with dads. His dad could never accept his sexual orientation, and if he could have found a way to get away with it he would have killed Blaine when he told him he'd gotten a girl pregnant.

And her dad wasn't too supportive either, but Blaine could hardly blame him for that. One: he'd gotten his daughter pregnant at sixteen, and two: it was pretty obvious he was gay and would never be able to actually be with her, so…

He just really doesn't want to add another dad to his list of people who hate him, because it's already long enough.

He stands and offers his hand, as if he were at a job interview, which guesses it kind of is.

"Hello sir, you must be Kurt's father."

"Burt," he says with a nod, "and you must be Blaine."

"Yes sir."

"Oh please, none of that sir shit, it makes me feel old. Call me Burt."

"Oh- sorry, Burt."

"Nothing to be sorry about," he assures, "I hope you don't mind, but Kurt told me about your dilemma." Burt ventures carefully, it's obvious he doesn't want to embarrass Blaine or make him feel uncomfortable. "Kurt didn't want me to say anything but I need us to be on the same page with everything, you understand?"

"Absolutely si-I…um Burt. No I don't mind at all, I was expecting him to tell you. And you can ask me anything you want, I swear I won't be offended by anything you say, not after growing up with Patrick Anderson." Burt eyes him quizzically but doesn't ask.

"He told me you're interested in a job and that you know a fair amount about cars."

"Yes, I used to fix up cars with my dad."

"Would that be Patrick Anderson?"

"Yeah," he answers a little awkwardly. Where is this going?

"I don't mean to- uh, cross any boundaries, and I swear I'm not trying to get Kurt in trouble, but he also told me you were gay." Blaine pales. _I should have known this opportunity was too good to be true. _ "I just want you to know that I am one hundred percent supportive of Kurt and LGBT in general, and I just want you to know that all of the guys here are too, and none of us will treat you any differently, and if any of them do, you tell me straight away, you hear?"

_What?_ Blaine just stands there opened mouth for a minute. Burt watches in amusement as Blaine tries to find his voice again. "Are you- did you-"

"You start tomorrow, kid. Oh and what kind of toys and snacks does the little guy like? He'll be spending a lot of time in my office, but I might have to run some errands some days, do you mind if he goes out with me? I assume you have a car seat I can put in my truck."

"I… _what?" _

* * *

"Twice in one day?"

"Were you aware that both you and your father are angels?"

"I was not aware. Do tell how you figured that out."

"Well first you gave me free pizza,"

"first step in becoming an angel, I'm sure."

"Of course, isn't pizza always the first step?"

"Very true."

"And then you talked your dad into giving me a job."

"You got the job?" Kurt squeals into the receiver, and Blaine has to pull the phone away so he doesn't go deaf.

"He basically handed it to me on a fucking silver platter. I'm telling you, the Hummels' are descendants of angels. There is no other explanation."

"So now I'm only a descendant?" Blaine can see the pout on the other man's face.

"Well of course you are, you didn't just appear, and it doesn't make you any less of angel."

"Back to being serious now?"

"Am I not being serious?"

"_Blaine."_

"Ok, go on with your seriousness."

"I'm really happy for you."

"I'm really happy that I met you."

"_Blaine!"_

"No seriously, Kurt! I- I don't know what would have happened if I hadn't. I know you won't believe me when I say you saved us, but you did. I don't know how I will ever repay you for this, or your dad, you have to tell me what he like so that I can get him something once I save up some money." There is a pause in the conversation, and Blaine can't be sure but he thinks he hears Kurt blow his nose, and when he speaks again his voice is horse, like he's trying not to cry.

"Jesus, Blaine, he didn't give you a job so that you could blow all of your money on a gift for him."

"I-I know, I'm not saying I'm going to go out and buy him a gold car jack, but this job has benefits, and insurance, and that-that is the biggest weight off my shoulders. You can't even imagine."

"You deserve it," is all Kurt has to say, all he _can _say. Blaine doesn't have a retort to that. Does he deserve it? He doesn't think so, but Declan does. Declan deserves some stability in his life for one. So Blaine says, "thank you," and smiles into the phone, even though Kurt can't see him. Blaine notices he's been pacing around the small waiting room, and takes a seat next to his very sleepy looking son.

"So, are you still at the shop?"

"Yeah, waiting to hear about my car. I'm just hoping it's not too bad, and that it can be fixed tonight, otherwise I have no clue how I'll get home, or to work tomorrow morning."

"It's almost 7:30, Declan must be exhausted."

"He's hanging in there," he says running a hand through his sons curls absentmindedly, "it helps that there is a TV in the waiting room. I just feel bad that I've kept your dad and Finn here so late."

"I could drive you home, or you could just- um I have an extra room in my apartment. It's only a few minutes from the shop, and I have to pass the shop in the morning to get to work anyway. I mean if your car can't be fixed tonight."

"An-gel!" Blaine singsongs, "there is absolutely no denying it now."


	3. Chapter 3

**Song used is "Diamonds" by Passenger.**

* * *

Blaine tries to set him down as gently as he can, and without waking him. He manages to get him in the bed and under the covers, he's almost at the door when, "Where are you goin' daddy? Where are we?"

"We're at Kurt's, buddy. Daddy's car won't be fixed 'til tomorrow so Kurt's going to drive us to the shop tomorrow; so you have to get a good nights rest because we have to get up early ok? We can't make Kurt late for work."

"Ok," he says through a yawn, he turns over, face first into a pillow, his usual sleeping position. Blaine deems it safe enough to leave without alarming him. He's half way out the door when he hears a pathetic, "daddy?" muffled in the pillowcase.

"What do you need buddy?" Declan takes a moment adjusting himself on the bed until he's facing the door, holding his arms out to Blaine.

"Snuggles?" He pleads. He does a few grabby hands; dammit, those fucking grabby hands are like hooks, dragging Blaine in by the heart.

"You got to promise me you'll try to sleep though, ok?"

"I promise."

"Ok, then let's get comfy huh?" Blaine lies on his back, and let's Declan situate himself. A minute later Declan's head has finally found a comfortable resting place on Blaine's chest, and Blaine's arms have wrapped around his son's small frame, holding him close. He begins to stroke his hair lightly, knowing it gets him to sleep faster. Last thing Blaine needs is for him to be cranky with Burt tomorrow.

Blaine begins to sing softly.

_Well I spoke to this man,_

_Said he'd been to the moon,_

_Carved his name in the ground,_

_Saw the world spinning round,_

_And came back that afternoon._

_And I laughed at this man,_

_Said he'd been lost at sea,_

_Heard the sirens call,_

_Seen the pirates fall,_

_To the monsters in the deep._

_I said I'd heard some tall tales,_

_Some good stories in my time,_

_So I asked him for proof,_

_And he showed me the truth,_

_There was dancing in his eyes._

_I could not believe this man,_

_Said he was a millionaire,_

_He said I know I dress in rags,_

_But I drive a vintage Jag,_

_And I've got a diamond chandelier._

_I said I think I need a drink,_

_And made my way outside,_

_You know I'd swear this was a spoof,_

_If it wasn't for the truth,_

_That was dancing in his eyes._

_When I came back in the room,_

_The man had disappeared,_

_He left a rock from the moon,_

_And eyepatch and a diamond,_

_From a chandelier._

He'd been singing to him since the day he was born, and it never failed to knock him out, and tonight was no exception. He was out and snoring softly by the 6th line. Blaine wriggled his way out from under him and slipped out of the world as quietly as he could.

"He asleep?" Kurt asks from the kitchen where he was nursing a cup of teat at the breakfast bar while thumbing through a magazine.

"Yup, had to resort to snuggles and singing, but he's asleep. Hopefully he won't be too bad for your dad tomorrow."

"If he's too much for him would it be ok with you if he brought him to my step mom at their house? It's the same distance from the shop to here, only in the opposite direction. I mean-He won't, he'll object if I ask him, I just don't want him to push himself. Would you have a problem with that?"

"I-um, I'm sure she's absolutely lovely, but I'd like to meet her before, if that's not asking too much?"

"Of course it's not asking too much. Totally justifiable, if not a little paranoid, but that's how parents have to be to make sure their kids are safe. I totally get it, no problem at all. We could meet her tomorrow if that works for you?"

"That's perfect. Jeez, pretty soon I'm going to have an army of babysitters." Kurt chuckles, he stands up and stretches slightly, his shirt riding up and exposing a strip of porcelain stomach, and a light feathering of hair leading down from his navel. Blain blushes and quickly starts up with a new subject to get his mind off of the question of what the rest of Kurt looks like. "So why do you have this place if your dad lives on the other side of town?" Blaine questions as he and Kurt sit down in Kurt's small living room, though the way he has furnished it makes the space seem larger than it really is. Blaine reclines back into the fluffy yellow couch that faces the small flat screen that hangs on the bright white wall. He hasn't been able to completely relax like this in so long. He hasn't been stress free in almost four years. He swears he can feel the knots in his back and neck coming undone.

"My dad leased it for me in my senior year. He wanted to make sure I'd be able to live on my own when I moved to New York,"

"New York?" Blaine cuts in. Kurt shrugs his shoulder, settling back into the couch himself.

"Yeah, I was waiting to hear back from NYADA, but I was supposed to go whether I got in or not. My friend Rachel and I were going to get an apartment, and be big Broadway stars. I know now how delusional that sounds."

"Well I'd have to hear you sing first, but I don't think that's delusional." Kurt finds Blaine's eyes, and is taken aback by the wholesome truth he finds in them. He remembers the way they looked just a day and a half earlier, so dark and lifeless, they've brightened so much since then, he looks like he's come back from the dead.

"I'm sure you'll hear me sing before I drop you off at work tomorrow, just promise not to laugh, as you can probably tell I have an unusually high voice for a guy."

"Pinky promise." Kurt lifts an eyebrow at Blaine's raised pinky.

"I believe you, I don't need to shake pinkies."

"Awe come on Kurt, it's our thing." Kurt eyes him again, he's reluctant to give in to Blaine, just to see his reaction but Blaine's puppy dog eyes get the better of him, and he lifts his pinky to hook with Blaine's.

"Anyway," he sighs out, releasing Blaine's pinky, "I didn't end up getting into NYADA, Rachel did though and I was still going to go to the city with her, as you must know Ohio isn't very accepting of guys like us." Blaine nods solemnly, knowing exactly what he means. "But my dad got really sick right before we were set to leave. I was in New York for a weekend before I came back. I couldn't do it; I couldn't be away from him. He's my whole world, the only one who's really been there for me through everything. So I packed up, and left while Rachel was in class. I knew she would try to talk me into staying, and I would feel worse about leaving her then I already did. The lease on this place hadn't run out yet, and I had kind of fallen in love with before I left, so I just decided to come back here instead of go home. I wanted to be near my dad but I didn't want to go home. All I've ever wanted to do was leave here, and I don't know, this place is like my own little escape from Lima. I know it's stupid because it's in Lima, but I don't have the same bad memories in this place that I have in my house."

"How is your dad now?" Blaine asks after a long moment of searching for something to say.

"He's in remission," he says, losing the somber hint in his voice, he sounds optimistic. "They caught the cancer really early. It's so completely wrong but I was almost thankful for his heart attack when he told me. If he only had yearly check ups like everyone else his age they wouldn't have caught it so early, and things could have been so much worse. Good news is he's in remission, and his heart is looking better and better each day."

"I'm glad; I only talked to him for a few minutes but he seems absolutely amazing. The way he just accepts you, and loves you, for you… when he told me about you and the guys at the shop, I didn't have anything to say to that, I had no idea what to say, I've never had someone so fully accepting of me, and to have basically a stranger say that they wouldn't let anyone treat me differently, because of who I am… I- your father is an amazing man, Kurt. You're so lucky to have father who's so accepting, and he's lucky to have a son who's willing to put his dreams on hold to help take care of him. I couldn't say I'd do that for my dad. You guys really deserve each other."

"He is amazing. I'm guessing you don't have the same kind of relationship with your parents?"

"No. We wouldn't be living where we're living now if I did. No, my parents are very set in their ways. 'People aren't born gay Blaine, you chose to be like this.'" Kurt winces at Blaine's words as if they were being aimed at him. He can't even imagine going through all the bullying that he was sure Blaine had endured (and if not, well, thank goodness, but high school is lethal and Kurt's sure he had at least a few less than politically correct terms thrown his way), and to not have a support structure to fall back on at home? Kurt gives him major props for… well honestly, for surviving that. Kurt's not sure he would have.

Kurt places a hand on one of Blaine's shoulders, where it has stooped forward under the weight of his memories. He rubs along the curved muscle gently, in slow circles, like his father used to do when he cried for his mother after she had gone. "That's terrible."

"What can you do?" He asks, his shoulders rising slightly only to drop even lower, his head following, so he's gazing at the floor, studying the intricate design on Kurt's area rug. "Can't choose your family."

Kurt's not sure how much time passes by with them just sitting there, Kurt's hand had returned to his lap a long while ago, and he was sure it was 9:05 just a minute ago, it can't be 9:30, can it? Blaine's yawn answers that question for him.

"Oh, um-there's an extra tooth brush in the bathroom cabinet. It's in its package and everything."

"Is this your subtle attempt to tell me I have bad breath?" Blaine quips, and Kurt blushes, for what, Blaine is unsure of.

"No," Kurt answers, "I was just trying to be a gracious host. I haven't been close enough to you to get a good whiff of your breath." Blaine lets the smile slip from his face, his expression turns serious, he leans over the empty space on the couch, his face getting closer and closer to Kurt's. He stops mere centimeters from Kurt's lips. His lips parted, prepared to blow a breath in Kurt's face, but he leans in further instead, only after taking in Kurt's range of expression; confusion, realization, shock, and finally the longing in his eyes that pushes Blaine to close those centimeters.

Kurt's hands get tangled in Blaine's loose curls, and Blaine's hand comes up to cup Kurt's strong jaw, deepening the kiss. Blaine's just glad it's Kurt who's the first one to slip his tongue past Blaine's lips, he's glad he's not the one to test the boundaries because that could be dangerous. _Oh god, _Blaine thought, _I'm making out with my bosses' son. This is the worst idea you've ever had Blaine Anderson, I swear to god, when you get home you are grounded. No more boys for a year, and definitely no more sleepovers, even if they are 'just friends,' NO, especially if they are 'just friends.'_

He doesn't want to stop it; it feels so… he doesn't know how it feels. He knows it feels like nothing else he's felt before. He knows it feels like all of the right things in the world, all compiled into one kiss, one moment. But…

"Kuuhrrt," he mumbles against the other boy's lips. "Kurt," he says more forcefully, and Kurt snaps back, his eyes turning a stormy shade of blue, darkening from their normal light blue color. _Shit_. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that."

"You're right." Kurt's confession tears a little bit of Blaine's heart off, leaving a stinging in his chest. Kurt inhales deeply, trying to find his composure, and work up the courage to continue on with his thoughts. It's only when he catches Blaine's gaze again that he's able to admit it fully to himself and Blaine, "I'm glad you did though."

The curly haired boy heaves a huge sigh of relief. "Me too," he says quietly, he takes Kurt's hand in his; he wraps both of his hands around the other boy's. "But-_god_-I just don't want things to be weird, if this is going to-"

"Jesus, Blaine, will you just shut the fuck up and kiss me?"

He shuts up.

* * *

"Are we both aware that this is absolutely nuts? Or is it just me?" Blaine shifts around in Kurt's arms (difficult to do on the shallow couch without falling off) so he can look at him, to gauge his reaction. "I'm mean you have to admit, this is pretty weird."

Kurt smiles lazily, he looks sideways at Blaine, too comfortable wrapped around him to move otherwise. "A good weird though…right?"

"Oh there is no doubt that it's a good weird. I'm just not sure-"

"Not sure of what?" Kurt inquires delicately, picking up on Blaine's trepidation.

"I-" He pauses, he mouth open, just waiting to find the words to force out. "You've got to understand that Declan, and his safety and well-being will always come first to me. I can't do this if it jeopardizes my job at the shop. You can understand that, right?"

"Of course," Kurt rushes out, "and I pinky promise that if _whatever_ this is or turns into, if it goes south it will not affect your employment. I wouldn't do that. And even if I did go diva and try to have you fired or something my dad wouldn't have any of it, he's good like that."

"You know for a pinky promise to be real you have to shake pinkies."

"It can't carry over from earlier?"

"Absolutely not! So do you pinky promise?"

"I pinky promise; I would never hurt you, or Declan like that. I couldn't." Blaine smiles lovingly up at him, craning up to place a quick kiss on his lips. He turns around, letting Kurt spoon him, his hands coming to rest over Blaine's heart. The both drift off into the most restful sleep either of them has had in a long while.


	4. Chapter 4

**Song used in this chapter is "It's Over Now" by Darren Criss. **

* * *

Getting up for work the next morning is hard, mostly because he doesn't want to leave the safety of Kurt's arms. But he gets up despite himself, and rouses Kurt as well. Kurt takes the first shower, explaining that he would normally be a much more gracious host, but when it comes to showers, and morning routines he is very set in his ways. There is just no way he'd be able to get through his moisturizing routine with Blaine showering before him. "I get bitchy when my skin is dry," he explains further.

So Kurt hops in the shower, and begins moisturizing as soon as he's out. Blaine hops in the shower, before he realizes he has no clothes to wear.

"Maybe I'm being a little paranoid," Blaine says poking his head out from behind the mostly closed bathroom door, he can see into Kurt's room across the hall, and he can see Kurt raise an eyebrow in the mirror he's using to evenly apply his numerous products, "but your dad is totally going to notice if I go to work in the same clothes I was wearing yesterday."

Kurt pauses momentarily, mulling it over. He finishes smoothing out the product on his face, and wipes his hands off on the hand towel that had previously been slung over his shoulder. Blaine waits patiently, though he's freezing his ass off in only a towel, while Kurt rummages through his drawers. He comes back with a plain gray t-shirt, and a pair of grease stained jeans, that are sure to be way too long on Blaine.

"These should fit you, well, the pants will be a little long, but you can cuff them. Don't worry about getting them dirty, this is the stuff I wear when I work at the shop, so they've seen their fair amount of grease, but I assure you they are freshly washed.

"Thanks," Blaine says, placing a quick kiss on the tip of Kurt's nose. The other man startles at the action, back peddles slightly, and Blaine hopes he hasn't crossed a boundary, he knows Kurt said it wouldn't affect anything but…

"I-wow," Kurt says after a moment of extreme tension in Blaine's world, "I'm sorry, I'm just not quiet use to stuff like this yet. I've really never had a- n-never mind." And Blaine feels bad for jumping to conclusions because Kurt looks ten times more anxious than Blaine felt just a few seconds before.

"Hey," he says softly, moving out from behind the bathroom door, placing a hand on Kurt's face, "What is it? You can tell me."

Kurt's cheeks redden substantially, and he gulps loudly, rolling his eyes at his own embarrassment. "It's just, I've never done… this."

"This?"

"Yeah, ya know," he gestures uselessly, unable to find a way to phrase this without sounding like a total man whore, while also saving some dignity. "I've never had a relationship that lasted 'til the morning."

Ok, so Blaine wasn't really expecting that, but it definitely isn't the worst he could have imagined.

"I would never-"

"Guessed, because I was so calm, and assuring last night, when the truth is the whole time I was kissing you, and holding you I was having a major anxiety attack? Yeah, one thing to know about me Blaine, I'm not very good with emotions. I'm never going to tell you what I'm feeling, and I know how insanely stressful that can be sometimes, and it's stressful for me to keep it bottled up, but I-" he sighs, letting his lungs catch up to how fast he's pushing all of this useless air out. Why is he rambling like this? _Why are you rambling like this Kurt? You do know this is a sure fire way t scare him off right?_ "I don't know it's just me. I've never felt comfortable sharing what I felt with others, so- I-Oh god I'm sorry-I,"

"Hey," Blaine says soothingly. He takes Kurt into his arms, hyperaware of his towel being the only thing separating him from being in his birthday suit. "It's ok, it's ok. Just breathe, all right? I swear I won't make you do anything you're not comfortable with, ok? And if…uh," he falters, suddenly feeling very self-conscious in his skimpy towel, and also slightly petrified. "If you decide you don't really want this, that's fine too. I get it. I just hope-" Blaine's words are stopped by the force of a finger against his lips. He looks up surprised, his eyebrows furrowing at the other man's action.

"You're the one that needs to breathe," Kurt deadpans. "And I'm sorry I'm being so… weird I guess. This is all just so new for me, and you're… you're really amazing, Blaine. I want this to work between us. We just- is it ok it we take it a little slower? I understand last night might have been misleading, but if we do this I want to do it right. Ok? I don't want to skip over anything."

He smiles onto Kurt's finger before removing it, placing a light kiss on his hand. "No skipping, jumping, or even hopping!" He assures. The taller man nods, though he still looks slightly apprehensive. Blaine decides to let it go for now, if Kurt wants to tell him what he's worried about he will, but he doesn't want to push anything, especially now that he knows what Kurt wants, and now that he knows a little bit more about what he's like. Kurt will come to him when he's ready to talk about it; he needs to leave him to decide when the right time it is for that.

* * *

Blaine swipes the sweat off of his forehead and looks towards the door as it creaks open loudly, revealing his very excited looking son. Declan runs toward him full speed and Blaine is nearly knocked over by how hard he barrels into him. "Hey, hey, hey, slow down there bud. You have to be careful in here, ok? There are a lot of tools that could really hurt you, no running, you hear me?" Declan nods his head, smile still spread from ear to ear, and it's so obvious that he has something very exciting he want to share with his father. "So how is your day going with Mr. Hummel so far?"

"It's not 'Mr. Hummel,' dad. He doesn't like being called Mr. Hummel; he says it makes him feel old. He says I have to call him Burt."

"Ok, how's your day going with Burt so far?"

"He's really fun daddy, we played with trucks, and he taught me what the different parts were called. We even went to the car part store; it was so cool in there! But I missed you, so I asked him if I could come and get you so you could eat lunch with us. He thought it was a good idea."

"Oh did he?" He asks, swiping at his forehead again. Declan nods, smiling a little brighter, if that were even possible.

"Yeah, so come on daddy, we got yummy samiches to eat. Burt's wife made 'em, and he told me she makes the best samiches."

"Oh, well then, what are we still doing here?"

"What have I been trying to tell you? Come on!" Declan drags him out by the hand, and Blaine feels all of the other guys' eyes on him, but instead of the judgment that he's so used to; all he sees in their expressions is fondness. They all know what this feels like, they're all fathers, or they plan to be, most of them in the near future. They know what 'my kid always comes first' means, and Blaine is so thankful because even though he hasn't really talked to any of them past the occasional, 'could you hand me a monkey wrench,' but he's seen their dynamic, and listened to their conversations with each other, and he knows that once he's found his spot that they'll all be there for him, to listen to him and give him advice if they can, and that's really not something Blaine has ever had, and the whole prospect of it amazes him. How can he go from rock bottom to top of the world, just like that?

He realizes that he doesn't care, just as long as he can stay where he is, he won't question it.

* * *

The day is long, and tiring, and actually really fucking rewarding. Declan is sleeping, and he's in the living room, on the couch, he and Kurt decided there would be no more sleep over's until after their 3rd date, so he's alone, wrapped in a blanket to ward off the cold. But despite the chill in his bones, and the slight tug of missing Kurt in his heart, he hasn't felt this excited towards to future since 8th grade; that was when he decided he was going to be a musician. It was a project he had to do in English. They all had to write about their dream jobs, and at first Blaine had no idea what he was going to write about. He knew he was going to get a crappy grade if he just chose a job at random that he didn't really care about, so he went to his English teacher (her name was Ms. LaVallee) and asked her to help him out.

After they sat down it really only took a few minutes for them to uncover Blaine's dream.

"_Well what do you like to do, Blaine?" _

"_Like in my free time?" She nodded, smiling at him encouragingly, letting him know that there were no wrong answers to this question. "Well, I like to read, and write, I guess, but I don't think I'm any good at writing." He sighed; every one else knew exactly what they wanted to be. Why was this so hard for him? Maybe it was the fact that his father had only ever thought of him as a doctor or a lawyer, but Blaine was surely never writing about that, he could never imagine cutting anyone open or standing in-between some one's freedom, and their incarceration. _

"_Blaine, as your English teacher I can assure you that you are a very talented writer, you excel at every assignment. You don't get A's just because you do the work, you get A's because you do the work well, you put a lot of thought into your writing, that really shows."_

"_Yeah but-I-I just can't really see myself writing books or anything like that, I mostly-uh-write… poems," he says softly, completely embarrassed by his confession. He's never told anyone about his poetry, and strangely, he feels relieved that he can tell somebody whom he knows won't judge him, or at least he hopes that's the case. _

"_Well I'd love to hear one," Ms. LaVallee prods, "if you wouldn't mind. Do you have one you'd be willing to share, it might help us decide what kind of job might suit you." _

"_I-uh…" Blaine roots through his backpack, finding his notebook stuffed at the bottom of it. He begins to recite one of his favorites. "__There it goes__," He begins softly, still feeling a little anxious, "__another one is gone. Another try, another one is wrong. Where to go? What is there to say? No one knows, I've never really felt good, about the hand that I've been dealt. What kind of game is this anyway? I want to make a statement, about the pictures, and their awful placement. I want everyone to see it too, I try to be someone, but I don't know how. I try to be the one, but it's over now. I can see the loneliness in you, I know it well, and everybody's got it too. It's funny, how I know I'm not alone here, that's how it seems, but when I'm walking through the halls, everyone has reinforced their walls. It's no one's fault, that the vision isn't at all clear. I don't know what is worse, than feeling like you're not a person. I try to be someone, but I don't know how. I try to be the one, but it's over now. All I ever wanted was to reach out, and have somebody take my hand. And all I've ever gotten was locked out, nobody would ever understand, I try to be someone, but I don't know how. I try to be someone, but it's over now. "_

_Mrs. Lavallee's applaud startled him from his own thoughts that had grown darker the farther he'd read; he'd always been kind of a loser at school, and yeah he had one or two people that he could call his friends, but it would have been great not to feel invisible everyday. He just wished these kids he called his peers would let him in long enough to get to know the real him, instead of the preconceived notions they all had of the big shot lawyer's son. They all thought he was a stuck up, know it all because of his clothes and his grades. He liked to wear bowties to school, so what? He just didn't understand why none of them even gave him a chance. _

"_That was truly amazing Blaine, you have a real gift."_

"_Thank you," he said shyly, as he stuffed his notebook back into his bag, hopefully sending the message for her not to ask to hear anymore, he just didn't have it in him at the moment. _

"_Have you ever considered turning one of your poems into a song?" _

"_A song? How would I do that?" _

"_Well you already have the lyrics, or most of them anyway, all you need is to figure out a melody to accompany it, I really think you have some great potential in songwriting Blaine, that might be a good option for what you write about?" She suggested and Blaine takes a moment to really consider what she's saying. _

"_So I would write songs, but for who?" _

"_Well, you could write for other artist, but you could also write them for you." _

"_For me? To like sing?" _

"_I hear you humming in class all the time, Blaine." Blaine blushed "You obviously love music, and singing. I think you could be a great singer/songwriter. But it's up to you what you decide on, just make sure you're happy with your decision, ok?"_

"_Yeah," Blaine said, nodding timidly, "thanks a lot Mrs. Lavallee."_

"_No problem, Blaine. Don't hesitate if you need anything else, ok?"_

"_Ok," he says as he takes off out of the classroom. _

_When he gets home the first thing he does is boot up his computer, and gets started on writing. He's still not convinced that it's the right career for him at the beginning of the essay, but by the end he's built up this idea in his head, and he can't imagine doing anything else. _

Of course sometimes things just don't work out like you want them to. He never moved to L.A. like he'd planned, he's never signed with a major record label; he'd never recorded any songs, or even written many. But maybe he will. Maybe after he's gotten them back on their feet, maybe he'll start to follow that dream again, and that even being a possibility, no matter how small a chance he has, or how long it takes him, gets him excited.

He's just drifting off to sleep, ready to dream of recording studios and CDs with his face on the cover of them, when there is a knock on the door. He groans, pulling himself off the couch. He opens the door saying, "I knew this third date rule wouldn't last," expecting it to be Kurt, but who he sees at the door startles him into a silence as the wind gets knocked out of him, and his heart starts to pound in uneven rhythms in his ears.


	5. Chapter 5

"Coop?" Blaine says in a teary voice. Before he can say anything else like, (_where the hell have you been this whole time? Why weren't you here for me? Why the fuck are you here now? How did you find me?) _his big brother is propelling himself into his arms, burying his face into Blaine shoulder, crying, his tears soaking through Blaine's shirt as he mumbles incoherent sentences in-between his sobs, as Blaine stand there frozen, completely taken aback. He finally finds some sense, and detaches his brother, begging him to quiet down. "Coop, it's-just-shh, come on, go sit on the couch, take a few deep breaths. Just breathe Coop, come on, you'll wake him up, shh, shh."

"I didn't know, Blaine." Cooper croaks out as soon as he can find his voice again. "I didn't know, I promise I didn't know."

"Didn't know what Coop? What-why are you-"

"Blaine you have to believe me, I didn't know anything," he's begging Blaine, and Blaine is sitting across from him, completely confused. He hasn't seen or heard from his brother in five years, and now he's here-and how the hell did Cooper even find him? Blaine holds out his hands in front of him, as if trying to block Cooper's next round of blabbering in its tracks. He inhales deeply, trying to control himself so that he doesn't explode.

"Didn't know what?" He tries again, slower this time, quieter, trying to add some calm before the inevitable storm.

Cooper's eyes drift to something behind Blaine, a fresh glisten of tears forms over his eyes, as he says, "I didn't know about him."

Blaine turns too see what Cooper is looking at. It's one of Declan's shoes. Blaine's brain falters… _but they told me they had told him. They told me he said he wanted nothing to do with me… _

"B-but I asked them and they told me they told you." He says softly, more to himself than to Cooper.

Cooper shakes his head warily, "they didn't, and they never even told me you left."

"But I haven't spoken to you in five years Coop! You couldn't guess there was something wrong? How did you find me anyway?"

"One of my friends from high school, he works with you I guess, you probably wouldn't recognize him, you were young. He saw you yesterday and called, he was worried, said you-you looked bad. So I-I went and talked with your boss I'm s-s-sorry!"

A fresh wave of hysterics takes over Blaine's older brother, he's sobbing into his hands, and _fuck, just quiet down Coop, you'll wake him. _But he can't say anything because here is the brother he gave up on so long ago, devastated, and completely unaware of the shit Blaine's gone through, crying, trying to make Blaine see how sorry he is.

"Coop, hey come on, shh. It's ok, I believe you, shh… come on, I believe you, you're not that good an actor." Cooper straightens, sniffling a few seconds before finally cracking a smile, and pushing Blaine gently on the shoulder.

"Am to. Did you see my commercial?" Blaine lets out a huff of relief; laughing at how quickly his brother's emotions can turn.

"Can't say I have."

"Remind me to show it to you when we're back in L.A."

"Will d-wait, what?"

"Well yeah, I can't just leave you here. Mom and dad may not want you in their lives anymore but you're my little brother, and he's my-my nephew, as crazy as that is, and I can't let you guys live like this. You're the skinniest I've ever seen you Blaine, and those bags under your eyes aren't fooling anyone."

Flabbergasted would be an understatement to what Blaine is feeling, yet there are no other words that Blaine can think of to describe his response to Cooper's offer.

"Cooper, I can't just leave now. Things are finally starting to look up! I have a job, with benefits, and I have someone to watch Declan-"

"Declan? That's-that's his name?"

"Yeah, he's sleeping right now, but you can meet him tomorrow if you want?"

"I'd love to."

Cooper is still teary eyed, and so is Blaine if he's being honest, but the guilt and sadness has gone out in his big brother's eyes and what's left is pride and optimism. Blaine knows he'll start crying if he doesn't say something else, so he tells Cooper about the real reason why he can't leave.

"And I think I might have a boyfriend. I-well I hope I can call him that. I just can't leave right now Cooper. Things are going really good for us right now."

Cooper looks around the shitty apartment, looks at the pile of ratty blankets piled high on the couch that must not even touch the cold in the thick of the winter. He sees the pillows at the end of the couch, and guesses that Blaine sleeps there, there is one other room, and that is where his nephew (who must be what? Almost four now?) must sleep. And going by the size of this place the room must be about the size of a closet. He doesn't see any children's toys, or even a phone. The kitchen looks sparse, and from what he can see from the slightly parted bathroom door they are on their last roll of toilet paper. "If this is good, then what was bad?" He asks voice thick, scared of what lies in his little brother's answer. Blaine closes his eyes, squeezing them tightly as if he can crush the images of the past with the force. Cooper would never believe him if he told him the worst of it, neither would Kurt. He's not sure he'd believe himself if he hadn't lived it.

"I don't think you want me to tell you about that Coop."

* * *

Cooper is raging when he leaves Blaine's apartment. He drives aimlessly, but his subconscious must take over somewhere because he winds up at their parent's house. He wishes he had enough self-control not to slam the door as he steps out of his car, but he doesn't have the energy to pretend he's not livid right now. He wishes he could ring the doorbell and singsong a nice, "I'm home!" and have his parents meet him in the front hall with open arms and hug him and kiss him while muttering "I miss yous" like they did every time he came home. He's saddened to think that those days are gone. After he gives them a piece of his mind he's not sure if he'll ever return home. And maybe it's just his current mood making him think all of these things, but then again, if they left one son out to dry, who says they won't do it with another after he chews them out? It might not be up to him.

He doesn't even bother knocking on the door, he pushes it open with such force, it hits the wall and bounces back. He closes it the rest of the way (a little gentler this time), he hears them shuffling to the door to see who it is, so he just stands there. He's glad he gets a moment, because he's not sure where to start.

"Cooper!" His mother's face lights up, but her happiness quickly turns to concern as she takes in his expression. "What's the matter, honey? We weren't expecting you for another week!" His father enters a moment later and he's glad, he didn't want to start ranting until they were both present, and really, he knows which one of them is more to blame for Blaine's situation, and it's not the wonderful women who he and Blaine used to run to whenever their father was particularly unjust with them.

"Would either of you like to explain to me why Blaine is living in some shit hole, with a toddler that I had absolutely _no_ idea about? Could you possibly explain to me why he looks absolutely sickly, like he hasn't eaten a proper meal in the last five years? Could you try to explain that to me dad? Mom?"

They both stand there, looking like deer caught in the headlights, neither of them even makes a move to try and answer him. He gives them a minute, thinking maybe they need time to think of their response, but after too long he rolls his eyes, reaches into his pocket for his keys, turning back to the door he say, "well I guess if you don't care enough to explain I don't care enough to stay here and listen to what are sure to be lies anyway. Don't wait for me on Christmas, or-" he clears his throat, which is suddenly very dry. "Or ever, I guess."

"Cooper!" he turns back at his mother's call, halfway out the door. "We- I don't know what to say," she admits softly. She's fidgeting, tugging at the ends of her sweater, something she does when she's afraid of something triggering their dad. "I-I didn't-"

"Didn't what Shannon?" His father jumps in to add. He seems pissed, already on his way too a full out Patrick Anderson explosion. "Don't lie to him. We all decided together that this was for the best. Blaine got his say we got ours. I don't see anything wrong with what happened," he continues, his voice getting louder with each word.

"You don't see how it's wrong that your son, and your _grand_son are out there starving? Jesus, dad, do you have a fucking heart in there? Or are made out of-of metal and wiring?" Cooper's voice is growing louder too. He doesn't think he's ever spoken like this to his father's face. It feels really good. "So why did you kick him out anyway? Was it because he got a girl pregnant, or was that just a cover up for you being a giant homophobic asshole? I'd really like to try to work this out. Make some sort of sense out of this."

"If you must know it was Blaine's idea to leave. He wanted to go live with-with that trollop! He didn't like our terms, and he said he would have no child of his growing up around such 'bigots.'" He air quotes that, which only seems to stoke the fire burning inside of Cooper.

"And what were those terms father?" He asks, heavy on the sarcasm.

"He was to finish high school, and continue on to college, and settle down with the child's mother once they reached the appropriate age. I don't see how that was too much to ask!"

"He's gay, dad! Of course that's too much to ask! How would you feel if your father was forcing you into marrying a guy? You'd probably be pretty fucking uncomfortable with that, wouldn't you?"

His father snickers, "please, Cooper, that is an entirely different scenario."

"No it isn't! It's exactly the same scenario. Either way someone is forced into marrying someone they could never be comfortable with. And you may find a way to love them, but it could never be in _that _way. You can't deny someone that basic right dad, it's completely unjustifiable, and if I were Blaine I would have peeled out of here too, but that doesn't give you the right to say that it was his choice to leave because you took away every other option."

Cooper moves in closer, getting right into his face for his final statement, hoping that maybe, _maybe, _what he has to say might resonate with him. But his final rebuttal is lost as his father's breath hits him full force. The thick scent of alcohol shouldn't come as a surprise but it still drives him over the edge.

"Or are you too wasted to see that?" He sneers, just one inch away from butting heads with the man that he used to look up to. Now, Cooper doesn't see a man, he's sees empty eyes, and an even emptier bottle.

His father's jaw clenches, his vacant eyes turn dark, but he doesn't try to defend himself. Cooper's glad for his father's stubbornness, because he really doesn't want to hit him, but when a few minutes pass of fiery stares and the elder Anderson finds nothing to say Cooper turns, he readies himself to leave behind these people for good for the second time that night.

This time no one stops him.

Not until he gets outside.

"Cooper, Cooper stop! Please."

"What ma? I swear, if you make me go back in there-"

She's playing with her shirtsleeves again. Rubbing them nervously between her fingers, clearly apprehensive to speak her mind. _Wonder how long it took him to train her like this. _

"No he's- you never have to talk to him again for all I'm concerned. I just-" her eyes slip down, she bites her lip. It kills Cooper to see how passive he's made her. How quiet and reserved, gone is the woman who stood up for him and Blaine when their father pushed them just a little too far. He fears he's made her just as empty as he is. "How is he Coop? How is-"

"Declan," he supplies.

"Declan?" His mother's eyes brighten, the gleam of tears barely visible in the streetlight. "He- he named him after grandpa?"

Cooper nods not trusting his voice. Their grandfather had been Blaine's rock when he was alive. When their father refused to take him, and refused to let their mother take him, it was their grandfather that would take Blaine to audition for shows at their local theater, and it was their grandfather that would take him to rehearsals and who would sit through everyone of his shows. He would take him to shows too. When their father took a road trip with Cooper to Cooperstown to the baseball hall of fame, their grandfather took Blaine to Broadway to see Wicked, and The Sound of Music.

"Yeah. They're- he says he's doing better, but if that's what his better looks like mom…" he drops off. Blaine wouldn't tell him what his worst was. And that scared the shit out of him. He didn't want his mom to worry- but on the other hand that was kind of her job as a parent, and she hasn't been doing a very good job of it lately. "It's bad, it's really bad. He's a small dude, but he doesn't look like he wears more than ninety pounds. I know for a fact that he weighed one sixty when he was boxing."

His mother nods solemnly, sniffling loudly. She wraps her arms around herself, shuffling her feet. It's obvious Cooper's gotten to her, and he's glad. She's not as empty as Cooper thought. "And the boy?"

"I don't know," he shrugs. "I haven't seen him yet. He was asleep when I was over there." _I should invite her to come with me tomorrow. Blaine will kill me. Dad will kill mom. _He lets out a long sigh, his breath making a cloud in front of him. "I'm meeting him tomorrow," _here goes nothing, _"do you wanna come?"

It takes her a minute to make a move, and Cooper thinks she's going to say no. He's actually almost hopeful she'll say no. He really doesn't feel like dying. But she lifts he eyes from the ground, and gives him a watery smile. She shakes her head slightly, bites her lip to try to stop the sob that's threatening to escape. It doesn't work. She attaches herself to Cooper, wraps her arms around his neck, squeezes him so tightly it's difficult to breathe, but he doesn't mind it. He's just happy to see he still cares about them, so glad that his father hasn't sucked all of the goodness out of her yet.


	6. Chapter 6

Cooper gave Blaine no warning that their mother would be joining him that evening after Blaine was home from work. He didn't do it to catch Blaine off guard, or to be sneaky, he did it because he knew Blaine would never agree to it, and he knew that once Blaine saw her, and saw how devastated, and worried about him she was that he'd be able to forgive them both. He was doing this for Blaine's own good.

But of course, Blaine didn't see it that way.

He stared at her, blatant disgust written all over his face before she had even muttered a syllable. He pushed Declan out of the way of the door, not wanting him to here the foul language that was about to erupt from a place within him that he hadn't touched in a long time.

"Cooper, what the fuck is she doing here?" He spoke to his brother but his gaze was still locked with his "mother's." Her barely caught the wobble in her chin before he eyes dropped to the dingy hallway carpet, be he did, and for one second he felt bad. Only for a second, before he remembered all the things that she had let her husband, his father, do to him, and say to him, and then he was back to disgust.

"Please, Blaine, hear us out- hear _her_ out before you turn us away, ok?" He scowled, but rolling his eyes, he opened the door where Declan was waiting with wide eyes, and an even wider smile, one that instantly lifted Blaine's mood, and he was thankful that his son was there, he would help him keep his temper in check.

Blaine knelt down, getting on eye level with his little boy, "Declan, this is your uncle Cooper, and your Grandma Shannon." Declan waved shyly at his family, if he could call them that.

"Hi," he said quietly. Blaine was always surprised when he chose to be shy, he was usually such an out going, talkative kid, except for, when it seemed, that it really mattered. Maybe he could feel the tension that all three adults were emitting and feeding off of that? Seemed like a definite possibility, you'd have to be completely oblivious to not see the anxiety between the three, and the ridged way they were all holding themselves, and though he was only three he was smart, he could tell when something was off.

"Hey, little man," Cooper said, joining Blaine on his knees, thinking that maybe that was how you were supposed to talk to kids? Even on his knees he was still a good foot taller than the boy. "It's nice to finally meet you."

Declan looked up to his father as if to ask, _is this ok?_ Blaine smiled and nodded, before standing up and backing towards his mother. He could just make out Declan's little, "do you like trucks?" before his mother had her arms wrapped around his neck, crying into his ear.

Blaine pulled back, his expression even, "not in front of him," he said. He pointed to Declan's room, his mother nodded before taking off in that direction. "Are you going to be alright with your uncle Cooper for a few minutes?" He asked his son before following. He only got a nod from the boy who was in the middle of a highly detailed description on the parts on one of his few trucks. "This is the muffler..."

He closed the door behind him as he entered Declan's room. He took a seat at the end of his son's bed, silently, bracing his elbows on his knees, still trying to work out this whole mess in his head. What could she possibly have to say to him? Would he even listen? Would he be able to look past, not just the last seven months, but the past four years? He didn't know.

"I'm so sorry, Blaine," The tears finally spilling over as she began, and she didn't stop until the tears slipping down both of their cheeks were happy ones.

xXx

"So…" Kurt draws out, giving Blaine enough time to stop him if he's crossing a line. When he doesn't Kurt continues. "How did it go with Cooper today?"

"I-uh, the word I would use would have to be proditorious."

"Ok I'm not even going to pretend I know what that word means."

"I believe the dictionary gives the definition of: _tending to reveal innermost thoughts or secrets. _Another definition that also works with the events of the night would be _traitorous."_

"Yikes. Do you wanna share?"

"Cooper brought our mom along."

"Oh, Blaine-"

"No, no, really it wasn't as bad as I thought it was going to be. I was furious at first, like how could he do that to me, ya know? Catch me off guard like that, and not think about how I might of felt, but I think I get it now."

"And what would it be that you get?"

"That she never wanted me to leave, and that she fought with my father whenever I wasn't home, trying to get him to let me stay. She also told me that the reason why she finally agreed was because she knew that I would be a thousand times more miserable with him than I would ever be anywhere else, even if I was living in an alley, she knew that at least I could be myself, and that was the most important thing to me. And I suppose she's right. But it still doesn't change the fact that she never found the time to check up on me, or her grandson, in the past four years. She didn't even- she never even met him until today, and who's to say she would have if Cooper hadn't finally figured out that I wasn't living at home and totally flipped out on her, basically guilting her into coming to meet him."

"Blaine," Kurt sighed incredulously, "you don't actually believe that do you?"

Pause.

"I honestly don't know."

"You know she didn't want you to leave so what makes you think she didn't want to meet him?"

"Well she never made an effort to!" He said, his voice moving up an octave. Kurt knew he was just grasping at straws. Blaine knew his mother could never be so cold, but he just didn't know how to not be mad at her, or wary of her actions. When Kurt "hmphed" on the other line Blaine continued, "ok, but come on Kurt, it's not like I don't have a reason to be suspicious. She hasn't even attempted to contact me in four years."

"But she's trying now, Blaine. If she really didn't care she wouldn't have come today."

Blaine sighed, "I know."

Kurt decides that was enough drama for one conversation. Time to switch speeds. "So you said it wasn't that bad. What did you guys do?"

"I mostly just watched them play around with him for a little while. Cooper took us all out to dinner. We made awkward small talk. Declan spilled his juice. It was almost like a normalish family dinner. I even got the courage to bring you up."

Kurt panics momentarily, _oh, he brought me up to his homophobic mother? Great! _"Oh?"

"Oh?"

"_Oh, _and what did you say?"

Blaine blushes, blushing more when he realizes he's blushing. "Uh…It-it's nothing really."

"Blaine!" Kurt tries to demand, but it comes out more giggly than intimidating.

"Fine!" He shouts, chastising himself when he realizes how loud it was, and how thin his walls are. "I told them I was seeing someone… I just didn't want to say it, incase that isn't what this is."

"I-I don't think I would call it anything less. I mean that's what we're doing right? We're seeing where this thing goes?" Kurt hears a little sigh of relief through the other line, and smiles; rolling his eyes at how endearing he finds it.

"I- I honestly can't tell you how relieved I am to hear you say that." He says airily, "I was really worried I was making this way bigger in my head. I just- I kept thinking about how hesitant you were the other morning, and I was kind of worried, ya know?"

"You've think of me sometimes?" Kurt blurts, before he realizes _duh, that's what people who kiss one another, and fall asleep holding them, do. But you wouldn't know because you've never been held like that, never held anyone like that before. You've only ever known cold sheets, and the occasional note with a number scratched down saying, "call me," but you never did because you were too ashamed, _are _ashamed. But you have Blaine now and he thinks of you, thinks of your feelings, and wants, and he thinks about if he's built up this beautiful dream of you in his head and he's worried you're not dreaming about the same thing, but you are because this is a guy that's not going to leave you before dawn, and he's not going to force you into anything you're not ready for, or anything you're uncomfortable with because he cares about you, and you really better not screw this up Kurt Hummel. _

"I think of you more than sometimes."

Kurt wishes Blaine were there in that moment, and not on the other side of town. He wants to be able to kiss him, and hold him, and assure him that this isn't something he's built up. It's early, and it's overwhelming for Kurt to think about, but there is something there. Something more than just a nice guy who held him, and who wants him, there is a real connection, and if he's being honest there has been one since the moment Blaine pulled down that mask and Kurt saw him, raw, and real, and beautiful. He should have been afraid but he wasn't, he wanted to help him, he just wanted to make sure he was ok, and that nothing bad happened to him ever again, nothing that would ever put that look back into his beautiful, sad eyes.

He wishes he could explain this to him, but he could never express it to Blaine in words, he decides he'll show it to him the next time he sees him and says, "I think of you more than sometimes, too," instead.


	7. Chapter 7

**Warning: I've changed the rating for this chapter to M. If you don't want to read the M part, but still want to read the first part of the chapter there is no M before the break. **

* * *

Blaine is surprised to find Kurt at the shop on Friday, dressed in coveralls, and frankly, looking pretty fucking adorable in them, and pretty sexy too. He's turned away from him, and Blaine takes the opportunity to check out the way the fabric stretches over his ass, not leaving anything to the imagination. He puts the wrench he was using down, and wipes the grease from his hands before going over to greet him.

"I didn't know you were going to be here today!" Kurt whips around, a smile forming as soon as he sees Blaine. The shorter man leans in slightly, giving Kurt time to pull away if he doesn't want to, but instead Kurt inches forward connecting their lips in a chaste kiss.

"Mhm, I usually work on Fridays, Tommy usually takes Fridays off so he can take his daughter to her basketball games, so I help out where I can."

"I think I have a new favorite day of the week," he says cheekily, taking the hand he'd taken a hold of and swinging it between them. He dropped it not a few seconds later when he heard a gruff, "ahem," from behind him.

Burt. _Shit. He's totally gonna fire me isn't he? _

"Jeez, both of ya need to lighten up a bit. You look like you've seen a ghost or something'," The two younger men are silent, blushes high on both of their cheeks. They both sputter for words, but stop when Burt begins to laugh, whole-heartedly. "Blaine can I steal Kurt for a second?"

_Why the hell is he asking my permission? _"O-of course sir."

"Burt," the older man corrects.

Blaine nodded, "Right, Burt, I'm sorry."

"No need to be sorry kid," He says clapping him on the shoulder, before he drags Kurt off to his office. Blaine turns back to the car he was working on, trying to distract himself from wonder what the hell they are talking about.

Kurt takes a seat in front of his dads desk, his dad taking the seat across from him, feeling like he's about to be interrogated. He squirms in the very uncomfortable chair, until he notices the little boy in the corner with the curly hair looking at him adoringly.

"Hi, Kurt!" The boy says turning from his toys, running to Kurt and climbing onto his lap. He can't stop the smile from spreading on his face, even though he's kind of losing it on the inside, he just can't help it. This kid is just too sweet.

"Hi, Declan! Do you like hanging out with my dad in his office?" The three year old shakes his head enthusiastically.

"It's super fun, and I have a lot of toys to play with here! And Burt takes me all over town on errands! And sometimes we even go out for lunch!"

"Wow, that sounds awesome!"

"It is!"

"I used to spend a lot of time in here too, ya know?" The little boys smile brightens, as if spending time in a crappy tire shop office is some sort of secret club that only he and Kurt get to be a part of. And when you're a kid, what's cooler than getting to do things others can't?

"Really?"

"Yeah, I came here everyday after school. I did my homework at this desk," he says, rubbing a hand over the dark hard wood. Declan turns to do the same. "I was much older than you though."

Declan's face screws up into thought for a moment before he asks, "do you think I could do my homework here when I'm as old as you were?" Kurt risks a glance at his dad, who's smiling softly at the exchange between the two boys.

"I hope so, little man." Declan smiles and scrambles off his lap to return to playing with his toys, forcing Kurt to really face Burt. "So…" he tries.

"So, you're seeing Blaine then?"

"I am," he says matter of factly, because if he's going to tell him, he's not going to let his father think that his opinion is going to deter him. He likes Blaine. He really does, and he likes Declan too. He wants to get to know both of them better. He's worried when his dad doesn't say anything for a few seconds, but then Burt is nodding his head slightly, smiling warmly at his son and Kurt feels a little of the tension melt out of his shoulders.

"He's a good kid. Hard worker. He'll be good for you, Kurt." Kurt is kind of shocked if he's honest. His dad has never said anything really positive about any of his other boyfriends. But he can't really blame him. They were all douche bags that he ended up dumping after only a few weeks of dating. And he hasn't had a real boyfriend since sophomore year.

"Really?"

Burt's smile turns a little bit softer, "yes, really."

"So… you're not gonna fire him or anything, right?" Burt actually guffaws at that.

"Come on, kid, give me a little credit. You should know I wouldn't do something shi-crappy like that," he says catching himself before he swears in front of Declan. "As long as it doesn't affect your work when you're both here, I have absolutely no problem with it, but I know Blaine wouldn't jeopardize this job, so it's all fine with me."

"I- thanks, dad. I'm sorry; I just didn't want anything to happen to him. He's already been through so much and I couldn't be the cause of another bad thing happening to him," he looks back at the little boy sitting on the floor in the corner of the room, making the grumbling noises of a truck, and smiles sadly, "to them."

Kurt's eyes drift back to his father's, he feels so spoiled to have such a wonderful man in his life. He thinks of Blaine's father and all of the terrible things he's done, trying to straighten him up refusing to support his sexuality, the verbal abuse, and even some physical, kicking him out when he was at his most vulnerable, and those are only the few Kurt knows of he's sure it goes deeper than that. He's sure there are even more terrible things that Neil Anderson has done to the sweet, wonderful, strong man that has been working so hard for so long just to keep himself, and his son alive, never mind happy.

He was never able to fully appreciate what an extraordinary dad Burt was before, he always knew he was amazing, and that not all of his boyfriends, or even hookups father's were as supportive as he was, listening to Blaine's tales really set in how truly blessed he was. Burt was always there for him, he never discouraged him, never said anything harsh unless Kurt really needed to hear it, which sometimes, he admits, he does. He always pushed him to follow his dreams regardless of what those dreams are. He just wanted Kurt to be happy.

"I won't let that happen, ok? They won't have to struggle again, Kurt."

Kurt is out of his chair in a second, hurling himself into his father's arms. Burt grunts from the unexpected weight, his arms hanging out by his sides for a moment before he wraps them tightly around the younger boy's shoulders, squeezing them reassuringly.

"Thank you, dad. Just-thank you."

xXx

Burt offered to take Declan for that night, the promise of a movie Declan's vote yes, while the assurance of an early bed time getting Blaine to agree to it.

"I-it's just weird!" he says finally after being prodded by Kurt who wanted to know what was wrong with him, "I've never been away from him for more than a few hours. He's never slept more than twenty feet away from me. Not one day of his entire life. It's just weird that he's not here."

Kurt gives him a tender smile; "I can't begin to imagine what it feels like to be in your shoes right now. I know it's scary, but my dad and Carole are great with Kids, ok? Nothing is going to happen to him, he's safe there."

Blaine's head drops onto Kurt's shoulder, "I know, trust me I do not doubt Burt Hummel's ability to look after a child, he's so good with him at the shop. It's not that. I miss him is all."

"I know," Kurt murmurs comfortingly. He begins running his hand through Blaine's curls. Blaine sighs leaning into him more, his face in the crook of his neck. Kurt shivers as Blaine's breath ghost across the sensitive expanse of skin. "But could we do this if he was here?"

Before Blaine has time to mutter a _what?_ Kurt is kissing him deeply, already sliding his tongue across Blaine's lower lip. Tugging when Blaine doesn't give in right away. They fall back against the couches arm, Kurt straddling him. His kisses gravitating down, he starts to suck a mark on his neck. And_ jesus_ does that feel fucking amazing.

Blaine feels himself start to get hard after only a few minutes of this. Kurt pulls back when his hips dip too low and his thigh grazes against his boner, obviously trying to hide a snicker. Blaine swats at his arm, "it's been four years, Kurt. Sue me for getting a little excited. I mean _fuck_; you're just so hot." He throws a hand over his eyes, so he doesn't have to look at the amazing man straddling him, while he continues to embarrass himself.

"Hey," Kurt says, tugging his arms away, he kisses him straight on the lips a little open mouth, and a lot needy and _hot, so, so hot. _"It's fine. I'm actually quiet flattered." Kurt leans forward to kiss him again, needing to feel the softness of Blaine's plump lips under his, but Blaine stops him.

"I-I've never actually been with a guy before." Kurt sits back farther, so he can look him in the eye.

"Really?"

The curly haired man shrugs, "I mean I kissed a few in high school, before everything happened, and then I never got the chance. I was too busy."

"Well then," Kurt purrs into his ear, "there is a first time for everything isn't there?"

Blaine's eyes blow wide with want, "y-yes," he stammers as he tries to control his breathing as Kurt starts to work at his neck again, tugging the bottom of his shirt, only breaking the kiss to take it the rest of the way off.

Blaine groans, his hips involuntarily bucking, searching for just the tiniest bit of friction, but Kurt only moves up with him smirking as a pathetic whine escapes him.

"Let me take care of you," Kurt whispers in a deep voice while popping the button on Blaine's jeans, working them down until they are around his ankles. He hooks a finger on the waistband of Blaine's underwear, tugging experimentally, "may I?"

He pulls them down when Blaine answers with a groan, his head lolling back onto the arm of the couch.

Blaine wishes he could speak. He wishes he could form just one word, one word to let Kurt know how much he loves this, but he's already so lost, so far gone that his mind is just mush. The only thing he can process is pleasure, extreme amounts of pleasuring coursing through him.

He nearly chokes on his own breath when Kurt's tongue begins the long journey along the thick vein on the underside of his cock, shivering when Kurt removes his tongue to start blowing on it, the cold air teasing, making him squirm. Kurt loves the way Blaine has turned into an absolute mess. He's putty in his hands.

Blaine manages a breathy "p-please." And Kurt knows that if he doesn't start soon it's not going to last long at all, not like it would anyway, Blaine's already too far gone.

He takes him in his mouth, working his tongue around the head for a few seconds before he starts to move, taking him a little deeper every time. He places one hand on Blaine's hip to keep him from bucking up, and the other on the rest of him that won't fit in his mouth, working him until Blaine's pleading with Kurt, "please, Kurt… I'm gonna-"

Kurt hums around him, sending him over the edge. He works him through his orgasm until he was squirming again but with oversensitivity instead of pleasure. Kurt let go with a pop, and crawls back up to meet Blaine in a steamy kiss, reveling at how he moans at the taste of himself.

He settles himself between Blaine and the couch, leaving his own hard on untouched, there will be plenty of time for that later. For now he just wants to lay here in Blaine's arms, and study him as he stares at Kurt as if he's some sort of god.

"Can your dad take Declan once a week?" He asks when he finally catches his breath. Kurt sputters before doubling over with laughter, Blaine joining him not a few seconds later.


	8. Chapter 8

**Super short! I apologize, I have been swamped with school, and also little ficlets running through my brain that I had to get out before they drove me crazy. Hopefully more by the end of this weekend, but hopefully this drama can hold you until then.**

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The past month was a blur to Blaine. Work kept him busy, making his days feel minutes long. His nights were spent with Declan and Kurt. He grocery shopped once a week, the kitchen always well stocked, which was something so amazingly weird to Blaine. They even went out to eat a few of times, and Blaine even paid for all three of them once.

He was able to buy clothes for Declan that fit, and were warm enough for the bitter winter. And when he went to buy a portable heater for an extra kick of warmth he got Burt yelling at him, asking him, "why the hell would you go out and buy a heater when I got three in the basement, just taking up space?"

He and Declan always had full bellies, they were warm, and extremely happy, and none of it could have been possible without Kurt.

"Stop it, Blaine!"

Blaine continued to place quick breathy kisses across Kurt's pale stomach, as Kurt writhed underneath him, trying to escape. He let out a high-pitched squeal, which made Blaine pull back laughing as he shushed him.

"Shh, he just went down for his nap. Do you know how cranky he'll be if he wakes up now?" Kurt quirks an eyebrow at him, "World War III, Kurt, World War III." Blaine gives up on kissing Kurt's stomach, traveling north to capture his mouth in a slow, deep kiss. Kurt moans into his mouth, the sound making Blaine moan in return.

"Mm, any chance your parents can take the boy tonight?" Kurt pouts his bottom lip out, Blaine takes it in between his teeth gently, not able to resist. Kurt giggles against his lips, but pushes Blaine back this time making Blaine pout.

"He' s in D.C. remember? That's why you have tomorrow off at the shop. We were going to go see Madagascar 5 with Declan? Any of this ringing a bell."

Blaine sighs; giving up on trying to seduce Kurt, knowing it will end painfully for both of them. No way could they keep quiet enough, and he definitely doesn't want Declan to walk in on… anything like that. He falls back against Kurt instead, his arms coming up to wrap around his chest.

"Mhm, I remember now that the blood's rushing back to my brain."

"Sorry baby, but he'll be back next weekend, maybe we could go somewhere for the weekend?"

A weekend? Could he go that long away from Declan? "I-um-" he cut off by a sharp knock at the door.

"Expecting someone?" Kurt asks with a furrowed brow, a hint of teasing in his tone but he mostly sounded confused. Blaine was confused too. He didn't have any friends other than Kurt and possibly Finn? But Finn hadn't been to his apartment. Cooper was the only other person who had visited, well, and his mom but he was almost positive it wouldn't be her. Going behind her husbands back once had probably scared her enough to never do it again.

"No. I have no idea who it could be. Maybe my landlord?"

He attached the chain to the door; this part of town was sketchy, it was better to be safe than sorry. He peeked through the small opening that the chain allowed and found no one there.

"Huh," he looked down either end of the hallway, seeing if the person had just begun to walk away, but it was clear that who ever the person was had knocked and gotten the hell out of there. An envelope on the floor caught his eye. He undid the chain, scooping up the papers and quickly shutting and locking the door behind him.

"What's that?" Blaine shrugs, studying the envelope, looking for anything suspicious. It seems to be just a normal package. He opens it slowly, still not completely convinced.

He had to read the words a few times before what he read actually hits him, and then he freezes.

"Blaine?" Kurt tries softly, standing up slowly, not wanting to startle him. He inches towards him, placing a careful hand on the shorter man's wrist, which holds the papers in a shaky hand. "Blaine, baby, what is it?" Blaine's hand goes limp along with the rest of his body as he slides down the door; he tucks his face into his knees, hugging them tightly. Kurt picks up the papers that have scattered across the small entryway. He scans them quickly, wondering what the hell has got Blaine so terrified.

He imagined an eviction notice or something like that, but not this… definitely not this.

"You…you're…she-"

Blaine looks up, his eyes that had been so clear, and warm as honey just a few minutes prior, were cold, faded, clouded with anxiety and fear. They already had large red rims around them, only adding to his heartbreaking look.

He sniffles quietly, his chin wobbling as he opens it to try and answer, just to have it clamp shut again. His eyes flick to the paper Kurt holds, directing such a heated glare at it, Kurt wouldn't be surprised if it caught on fire in his hands.

"She's fighting me for custody," he spits out. "She leaves us with nothing and she thinks she can pop in and just demand him back? She quit on him! She didn't care enough to fight for him then, what gives her the fucking right to fight for him now?"

"Blaine I-"

"No." Blaine cuts him off curtly. "No, I'm sorry, just uh… I need you to go, alright?" He gets up shakily, his hand fumbling with the doorknob before finally twisting it open. Kurt feels like he's twisting his heart.

"Blaine?" He wants to say _Blaine, you can talk to me, don't leave me alone, don't shut me out. I know what that's like. Don't shut me out. Don't shut people you care about out, it's the worst thing you can do. Please? _But he can't, not when Blaine's gaze drops from his stinging eyes to the floor as he holds the door open for Kurt to leave.

Kurt nods, swallowing thickly; he gathers his coat and his bag, slinging both over his shoulder. He plants a light kiss on Blaine's cheek and whispers, "You don't have to do this alone, Blaine. You don't have to fight alone anymore," before stepping through the threshold, the door to apartment 21 closing with a heavy thud.


End file.
